Crimson Peak: Descendant
by The Real Cas
Summary: After the fateful events at Crimson Peak, Edith Sharpe marries Dr. McMichael to restart a better life from one they escaped. However,Saraphina is the daughter of Edith and Thomas Sharpe-before his untimely death. As Sara grows, she learns that-like her mother-she too can see ghosts. Sara embarks on her own twisted journey of dark gothic horrors and romances between death and life.
1. Encounter: Like Mother, Like Daughter

Ghosts are real; this much I know.

The first ghost I ever saw was that of my father at the age of ten.

My father had been killed before I was even born, and my mother, Edith, remarried soon after. The reason I know is because she would always remark how much I looked so much like my father, never Dr. Alan McMichael's daughter. Then one day at the age of five I asked about this strange curiosity. My mother revealed the mystery only saying that my real father is in Heaven with my grandfather and grandmother. I asked about his family, and all my mother said was that my father and his sister were only children when they were orphaned. She never said anything more at the time, but revealed to me much more in my later years when I asked. My mother had nothing to hide; she was simply disturbed by her past. I understood this better than most. My name is Saraphina Tomei Sharpe.

My step-father, Dr. Alan McMichael, I came to know as my father since he raised me with the love of me as his own. Even so, he and my mother had a child-my brother, Nathaniel McMichael- at my age of ten. In fact, the very night my brother was born is the night I saw my father's ghost.

All I knew prior to encountering my father's spirit was that it was because of my Aunt that he was dead. What had happened between my parents, my real father, and my aunt remained an enigma to me, but the real inquisition remained: why did my father come to see me?

I did not know the reason until it was too late.

The room was dimly lit; screams were heard into the night of the busy mansion in upstate New York. Midwives ran about with sheets, towels, and buckets of cleaner water for the birth in the master bedroom. Alan was hard at work, tending to his wife's labor. Outside in the darkened hallway, the night flashed lightning, rocked the thunder in the furious abysmal sky as rain poured against the windows. The streets were as black as obsidian, but the outside world was drowned out by noise and sight. A ten-year-old girl sat at the end of the hall in a lush chair, upright and bored at the surrounding excitement. Through thick eyelashes that flicked up at the screams, russet eyes looked broodingly forward to the door a dozen feet directly in front of her. With the moonlight and dim lights in the hall, the empty hallway was darkened completely.

The girl was not afraid of the evening, though it was a perfect horror for most. No, what the girl feared was something far more irrational as she seemingly thought. She knew with the birth of this new child that the good doctor would no longer love her as his own. She sat there reminiscing not even from a week prior to the birth of the scene.

* * *

Flashes of bright sunlight beamed in an open field, butterflies flit about with the ladybugs and various beetles. Dancing to the wind Sara's hair flew like a flag draping eloquently like a liquid. Her gown was billowing to the breeze. Sara had pitch black hair, like that of the finest ebony silk and velvet. Raven-like eyelashes adorned her bloody-amber chocolatey eyes against the palest of tanned skin. Her smile was bright and her hair was tied with a tiny ribbon that Alan had bought her. He laughed with her, for they had a family picnic that day, and it was pleasant weather. Alan tossed a cricket playfully at Sara, but she dodged away. The cottonwood fluff made it look like there was snow in the fair weather. The lightning bugs started glinting in the dying evening. Alan's smiling face was at peace, his ruffled dirty blonde hair crumpled in his hands as he brushed it back. Though he wore his typical work clothes of decent trousers, a vest-complete with a bronze pocket watch, and a poet's long-sleeve shirt, he looked relaxed. Edith sat next to him, leaning on him on top of the blanket in the tall grassy field, as Sara pranced about. They truly are a family.

Sara sat beside Alan panting her breath in even, but rapid, paces. Their laughing had stopped but the gentle breeze continued. The sun started to bleed into its sunset. Sara simply asked Alan, "You won't love me anymore will you?"

Both Alan and Edith looked shocked at her statement. "Why on earth would you say that?!" Edith cut in before Alan could say anything.

"Now Edith it's all right," He paused after reassuring her before turning to Sara, "Now tell me Sara, why do you think that I would stop loving you?" He pulled her in so she would lean on him as she side sat. Looking up earnestly, Sara remarked, "Mama always says how I look like my father in Heaven. My little brother will look like you, with hair like gold and eyes like pennies. He'll be strong and dedicated to his work, not 'willful and spritely' as she says I am. I supposed you would love him much better than I." Alan looked down at her making eye contact as she said this.

For a moment, both Edith and Alan remained painfully quiet. Edith bore a face of guilt and shame, stroking her enlarged tummy. Alan looked back down on Sara, still holding her, "I can never love your brother no more or any less than I love you. You are a gift from God to your mother and me for all the heartache we've been through. You are our redemption, a second chance to a life we have now. A life we almost lost, so you are a daily reminder of how grateful we are to have another day to have a blessed and loving family until we die and join our other loved ones in Heaven."

With that answer, Sara leaned in happily against her father's arms, completely at peace. As Sara closed her eyes, Alan and Edith exchanged a quick worried look, but then relaxed at the notion that his words are a true statement of their condition. The sentiment, however, would not last forever…

* * *

The carpets had dancing shadows that creeped and crawled like tendrils of smoke from the moonlit windows above them. Sara looked darkly at the angry portraits around her. She wore a black pinafore, her hair half tied neatly back. Sara played with her rosary beads in fingerless gloved hands. The only color that Sara could see in the dark was a glimpse of red from the mahogany clock upon the wall. Screams of pain still echoed out, and Sara continued to sit in silence alone.

When the clock struck three in the morning, everything fell absolutely silent. All Sara could hear was the sound of her heart beating and her breathing in sync with the clock. The warm air that surrounded Sara was gone instantly. The breath that seemed to escape her lungs in an even pace changed suddenly. Shadows that danced stood still, and the light that never wavered flickered in an unholy way.

Sara's quiet scowling self looked like a human beacon in the falling darkness. Not that she was light or dark in nature, rather the fact that she was living made her stand out in the silent pit.

Sara looked up to the crucifix that hung on the wall across from her, she thumbed her rosary praying for her sins, praying for others, praying that she'd did something good so that any atrocity that would happen would be merciful. It was odd; the warm wooden hand carved beads went heavy and icy in her hands. She felt God in her soul and mind, but then her heart seemed to stop at what came next.

Sara held her breath as a white figure emerged from the solid wall before her. Her heart exploded like that of a frightened animal, she felt the devil wasn't tempting, but tormenting the poor girl's spirit-or so she thought.

The ghost was tall and leanly built. The pale Shade wore simple clothes, but that is not what disturbed young Sara. The gaunt looking man had a wound under his left eye that seemed to pour out red effervescent fog, like ghostly blood. Near the waist coat was another wound similar in color and physical nature. All of the misty gases seemed to solidify with each step the ghost took from the wall towards Sara. She sat there, immovable, and though she was incredibly frightened she surprised herself.

Standing she firmly faced the ghost, "In the name of God, you do not belong here so you must leave!" She hissed at a normal volume. The ghost came closer to her, and Sara's determination through the fear made her stand in an attack stance towards the ghost. The spirit was silent and was going to say nothing until it got closer to the girl, but Sara instead demanded, "In the name of God, you must state your name spirit!"

The ghost paused halfway down the hallway, and curiously cocked his head at her. A chilling laughter started to grow in the house as the ghost simply smiled darkly. Sara was highly unnerved, but still remained anchored in her spot. The entity finally came within reaching distance of Sara and it made her blood run cold as he spoke to her, "You, who is so much like your mother, oh my child-you must heed my warning: Don't trust your eyes; for your friend the crow sits among ravens and is not your friend. Your friend the raven sits among crows and is not your enemy. One will trick you and the other will help you, but do not confuse the liar with the gullible."

"Don't trust your eyes," Sara repeated to herself quietly in question. Looking up to the pale shade, she raised her eyebrow inquisitively. The shade simply came close to her and held her against him in the sort of caress a father does a child. The one arm on the upper back pulling Sara in, and the other hand stroking the shape of her round head patting her hair, while Sara's left ear rested on the ghost's solid self where the heart would be in the chest. An odd thing for a non-corporal entity to solidify in this way. Sara heard neither heartbeat nor warmth, but it felt like she was against the coldest metal in the world.

The ghost simply hugged his child, for she was his only daughter. The moonlight came in washing away the darkness that fell. The only whisper Sara heard was an odd blend of her echo and her father's voice saying 'don't trust your eyes.' As soon as she looked up moving her head from the previous position, the shade dissolved into the darkness at the coming of the growing bluish silver light. The spirit was gone, and Sara was left alone to hear the resuming of paused sounds that now made the house come back to life. Like a phonograph, the first sound that resumed and resounded in Sara's ears was the sound of a wailing babe.


	2. Return to Roots, Find Thy Self

Days seemed to blur on in a dreamlike daze. Sara grew older and more intelligent, though she kept to herself. Her brother, Nathaniel, was spritely and always curious about the world. Both grew rapidly as children do, with the sibling love which is often confused for annoyance. Edith watched her children grow and so she had no fear for her children, sensing that her brush with danger was a mere glimpse of a nightmare long forgotten. Alan continued his work casually since they were all fairly rich, even for a middle-class doctor as he. Still, the inheritance from Edith's father and the Sharpe's remaining estate, the family lived in comfort stateside. Edith and Alan were fairly progressive in their private tutoring of their children, teaching them that whatever they both strove for, with hard work and prayer, they'd most likely achieve it.

Of course, though both children were homeschooled, Sara is older and was university-age when she completed her studies with her parents and few private tutors. Nathaniel was still in a middle-age primary level so Alan and Edith tutored him until he is the same age as Sara. Both of Sara's parents decided that since she was an adult she needed to finish her schooling elsewhere and hopefully find a career and family of her own outside theirs. Nathaniel, naturally, would have to wait.

One evening at dinner they discussed such a topic. "Sara, your mother and I wish to discuss something with you." Sara looked up from her water glass, curious.

"Is this because Nathaniel destroyed one of my art sketches and I pummeled him for it?" Sara scowled at Nathaniel.

"I think I improved its grotesque visage anyway." Nathaniel's dark green little eyes glinted at Sara mischievously. Sara made a motion with her knife, but their mother cut in, "Settle down. It's not about that," Edith looked sternly at Nathaniel who glared at Sara before continuing to eat.

"Sara, you are now twenty and a young lady. Your father and I wish to send you to a university or finishing school abroad to find a career of your choosing and a family of your own. We don't believe you would want to live with us forever. What are your thoughts?" Edith presented. Sara thought for a moment and chose her words carefully.

"Are you casting me out?" Sara began.

"No, no, no, no. We would never cast either of you out. We have plenty of money to leave the four of us wanting for nothing until we are dead. We just thought that-" Alan was cut off by a quip Nathaniel made.

"They just think you're a freak that sits alone and draws dead people and want to give you to Bedlam with a Christmas bow."

"Nathaniel! Apologize to your sister!" Edith exclaimed furiously. Sara knew deep in her heart it was fairly true. On occasion, Sara would draw or write about her experiences, like her brother's birth, and it would disturb her parents. In part it was because Sara would draw the likeness of her dead father, a man she has never actually seen. Sometimes she would draw a woman, who looked like her father, but didn't know who she was herself. During her teenage years, Sara sometimes would sleepwalk and sleep talk and frighten the maids, butlers, and other servants in the mansion hall. Because of her odd quiet nature, she kept to herself. The only one she would really ever talk to was not even alive, nor seen by others.

Sara replied, "When you get older perhaps that's what they'll do to you." Alan snapped, "All right that's enough."

Edith faced Sara, "When I was your age I wanted to write books, so I went to Father's smaller companies to have my work printed. I went out and explored the cities before I married."

"And then daddy dearest died and you ran back here from across the seas with Alan, both half dead and frozen while daddy dearest lies stone cold dead beneath the harsh ground at Allerdale Hall." Sara replied. Both Alan and Edith looked at her in sheer horror with Sara glaring beneath her dark hair, as if someone else talked through her. Someone that Edith once knew long ago, but it was not her beloved husband, instead someone much darker.

Nathaniel was even stunned by his sister's shocking change in behavior, so much so he couldn't even make a funny quip about it to anger her. Suddenly, it seemed that Sara returned to her usual disposition. "So you went out at my age and you want me to have a similar experience of finding myself? Is that it?" Sara asked, unphased by the last few minutes-as if they never happened.

Edith stammered but Alan, though shakily in his voice, responded, "Yes that's right but Sara do you not know what happened three minutes ago?" He asked the obvious.

Sara looked confused at her father, "Yes, mama said that she explored the cities before she married daddy…right?" It seemed to slowly dawn on her but ignored the idea. The others couldn't dismiss it as easily as she could. The reason why is because she was used to it, hell, it is how she lost friends frightening them with secrets that they thought were hidden from the world. Yet, somehow Sara knew them. This was the first occurrence that happened with her family though, because Sara's uncanny abilities with the supernatural were unnerving and observed through repression.

"So, with that proposal," Edith tried to persevere, "do you know where you would like to go, or somewhere for us to look for you?"

Sara thought for a moment, "I wish to go to the Old country, and find artistic inspiration for my work. Perhaps I'll find a descent print company there too. Do we know any people that I could stay with?"

"I'll make a few inquiries, but I know a colleague of mine has a son that lives in an estate in Keswick, England." Alan replied nonchalantly.

"Keswick?" Edith looked to him with worried eyes. Alan realized that Keswick was fifteen minutes away from Allerdale Hall. But since Allerdale Hall was on top of a cliff, it seemed isolated from its neighbors.

"Yes, Keswick." Alan swallowed. Sara looked intrigued, "Sounds interesting. I'll go there." Nathaniel broke in, "You'd do better in Bedlam, you bloody Cassandra. Maybe Apollo will finally whisk you away from the rest of us." He mumbled. Sara heard and abruptly stood up, "I hope that when we both die and go to Hell, just remember that you will be under my feet and I will be upon the throne!"

Sara stormed off angry at the notion of feeling that everyone she ever met believes her to be a crazy she-devil. Her response was always the same that if she was a devil, then she'd be the one on the throne. Her parents called back for her to apologize to her brother and to continue the discussion, but the evening was at an end.

"Don't antagonize your sister." Alan warned Nathaniel. "But Dad it's only a joke! She's not even my full sister; you know how crazy she is!" Nathaniel blurted out of frustration, not hatred. Edith slammed her hand on the table, "ENOUGH! GO TO YOUR ROOM!" Nathaniel muttered something unintelligible as he trudged away.

Edith and Alan looked quietly at each other, "Do you think it is wise to send her there? What if she finds Allerdale Hall?" Edith's worry crossed her forehead as she put her head in her hands. Alan took them reassuringly, "Though I shouldn't have suggested it, it caught her interest. With our luck she might marry the boy who lives at the estate and so she'll never venture to Allerdale, I think it'll be ok. The boy likes art like Sara does; he doesn't want to be a doctor like his father. Ok?" He kissed her hands then he leaned in and kissed Edith who reciprocated.

"Very well then. She is too much like me; I fear her gift to see those who shouldn't be seen is too potent."

"Whatever God wants to happen will and then it will pass. All ends well, and if it doesn't then it's not the end." Alan whispered.

"What's the boy's name?" Edith inquired.

"Dylan Kestrel. He's about the same age, maybe a little older than Sara. My colleague mentioned him only once, which is peculiar."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. I suppose I talk of my family too much at work." Alan smiled as Edith and Alan kissed.

Meanwhile, the room above the dining room had very thin floors. In the right spot, one could hear everything as easily as if the person next to you said it. Sara heard everything they had discussed, pressing her ear to the floor in the drawing room. She was all alone in the locked room, or so she thought. As she listened to the discourse, Sara heard something faint on the wind. "Father?" Sara whispered. At first she heard the voice of her father saying "Don't faint my child." But it was so quiet she thought she imagined it. She thought that he touched her shoulder lovingly and whispered a little kiss on her ear and looked back, expecting her father but gasped as there was no one.

Sitting up from the wooden floor, Sara looked around seeing that no one was there. No people nor ghosts-just her. Something didn't feel right though; she looked around the room and startled herself when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Panting slowly, Sara caught her breath. The mirror suddenly looked dusty with mist; naturally, she went to clean it off with her hand.

All of a sudden, a black hand jumped out of the mirror and grabbed the hand Sara placed on the mirror that wiped away some dust. Sara jumped backed and gasped loudly, too frightened to scream. When she pulled back the apparition disappeared; she checked her hand to see that it was all right. Blood surged in her ears thumping wildly.

Before Sara could recover, the piano was struck with dissonant chords. Sara's head snapped to the startling sound and saw a horrifying black figure of a woman screeching at her. Sara stepped back and fell on the carpet line near the wooden floor. Sara let out a scream that could curdle blood of the dead. The figure now collapsed to the floor and started to crawl its way towards her. Sara tried to move further back, but realized she was now in the grand fireplace, with the black slimy evanescent woman ghost crawling towards her screeching as Sara continued her wailing. Ash fell above her like snowy rain and she looked up and saw another ghost; a bloody crimson man with his chest opened and his pumping scarlet heart in his hand, crawling his way on the wall down the chimney towards her.

With the noir and sanguine ghosts coming at her, cornering her, in the chimney, Sara screamed, "GOD HELP ME!" and continued to wail with her fists on either side of her head as she curled up in the sooty fireplace. They closed in to where she could feel their chill of them of their hands millimeters from her skin ready to grasp her ankles and her wrists near her temples.

By the grace of God, the drawing room doors slammed open. Edith grabbed Sara's wrists as Sara struggled, kicking, screaming, all with her eyes wide shut. "Sara! Sara, it's me!" Edith tried to console her. Opening her eyes and no longer screaming, Sara realized that the spirits were gone and her family burst into the room to comfort her. Once Sara realized she was safe, she sobbed into her family's shoulders, as they coaxed her out of the fireplace into the middle of the floor. There, Sara simply threw up, and said, "I need to leave this place. The ghosts don't want me here anymore. Father's voice isn't here anymore; Lucille brought them here to me. I can't dream, and I can't see _his_ face anymore. Not father's and not his, I can't see my path. All I see is oblivion." She mumbled how she felt sick.

Alan and Edith exchanged looks, knowing what they needed to do. For now Alan had to care for Sara, who felt sick to her stomach, for the night.


	3. The Journey Begins

After deciding that they would send Sara away for her mental well-being and hope that she would escape supernatural peculiarities; Edith and Alan still worried given their experiences with the late Sharpes. They kept things from their children because they did not really need to nor seemingly want to know. For Nathaniel this held true; his young, impressionable, and fairly one-dimensional mind gave way to childish stereotypes. He would tease his friends, indulge in sports, catch fireflies in the summer dusk, and scrape his knees playing on the estate grounds. Sara did not wish to know things, but because of her strange gifts, she knew of things that would drastically alter her calm demeanor into a scared scrambling survivor. With each encounter of apparitions, each spirit seemed more malevolent and would leave Sara praying, sweating, and sometimes marked. Edith noticed that the marks were small at first; when she was in the fireplace, it was sweaty scrapes. Later on it would become things like gashes and bruises on her arms. Fortunately, the more violent encounters came in her dreams after the drawing room incident, where Sara was most definitely awake. Unbeknownst to them, Sara would not be conscious for the next paranormal encounter until she left home.

Alan worried for Sara even though she seemed headstrong. As of late he would tell her about where she would go and what she could do while she was there. This was a means to not only implant ideas of where to go for her pursuits of a young woman in the world, but also trying to focus her away from curiosity towards the unholy place both Alan and Edith escaped. Somewhere in his heart, he knew it was futile because he had that shiver in his spine that gave him the notion Sara would be drawn to Allerdale Hall. Edith did not try to be as obvious as Alan was. Instead, she would carry on as if nothing happened. If ignoring the beast deprives him the pleasure of frightful attention, then it is not completely a loss is it?

Sara prepared for her trip by telling herself what she might need and other necessities in case of an emergency. Nathaniel passed by her open door and peered in, playing with his ball-and-cup toy. Mindlessly playing with it, he inquired, "Sara, why are you taking that?" Sara looked down at her neatly packed clothes and shoes in her large leather suitcase. On top of one of the dresses was a Bible and next to it were a compendium of curiosities: a small vial of holy water, a rosary, a revolver with intricate symbols from the Irish Celts, and finally a book on Demonology. She saw that he motioned specifically to the book on Demonology. Since she was religious the other items made sense in their place with her, and the revolver was fairly logical since she would be on a ship of primarily men. Gingerly picking up the old leather-bound volume she replied, "It is light reading for my trip. Assuming the superstitious men on the ship do not wish for me to assist them in whatever they may need. You would think they are modern men but alas they are not. Then again I am one to speak…"

Sara glanced at the Catholic sacramental items wondering if the modern American age would find her crazy and truly worthy of Bedlam as Nathaniel previously said. Nathaniel stopped playing with his toy; looking up from his pastime, he seriously, genuinely, and quietly muttered, "Sara, I know we don't always get along but I do love you and I'll miss you a lot. Just remember to write us. Oh, and before I forget," He paused with a laugh, "Castrate any man who gets too friendly on that boat." She smiled and hugged her brother who reciprocated. After a good minute or two, he struggled and cursed that she was annoying and returned to his boyish pastime, leaving her in peace.

The silence boomed over the room. Strangely enough, the large room packed cozy with material things now seemed bare. The wardrobe was more than empty, the jewelry gone, some books missing from shelves, toiletries packed, and her crucifix off her wall. The rest of her things would remain behind like the furniture and memento figurines. The servants would cover her room in cloth and the linens would be stored in the hallway closet upon her departure. The bathing room would be seldom used, so both her bathroom door that lead into her room and her room door into hall would be locked. That way, no one could be tempted to take anything-not that the servants would. One thing the McMichaels could count on was the loyalty and integrity of their staff. Simply because not that they were decent people, but all of them feared Sara. Naturally her room gave them an unnerving aura and they said that her things were possessed.

One of the former butlers was a young man in a little debt, and stole a bejeweled hair comb from Sara. None of them knew nor really noticed, both staff and family didn't really care that much. However, he turned in his notice to leave with the hairpin stating that when he paid off his debt to the man he owed in an alleyway, both the debtor and collector heard eerie banshee shrieks in the dark. He swore to God that Sara was the Banshee that guilted him into honest labor. Fortunately, the collector erased his five pound debt, stating that no debt was worth a haunting from an heiress. Alan laughed at the notice thinking that Nathaniel tried to prank the poor man with schoolboy tricks. Edith was intrigued by the note and knew better. Nathaniel thought that the police ought to have been notified from stealing from them, but Sara nonchalantly said, "No, prison is less scary to that man than the hell I could bring by simply whispering his dark fears into his ear." She giggled in jest, but Edith-as she frequently was-crossly frowned at Sara. Her disapproval was evident, "Sara, you will not frighten our staff or I will send a Banshee after you!" She chastised the innocent girl, but the staff overheard and gossiped nonetheless.

Coming out of her reminiscing, Sara closed her remaining luggage that was to be carried out to the carriages or cars that they owned. At this point, it was early twilight on the eastern horizon. Everyone was awake and bustling about, but Sara was ready to embark on her trip. Breakfast was awkward; Edith had dried tears on her cheeks, Alan had red blood shot eyes from lack of sleep. Although Nathaniel had already given his good-bye, Sara noticed his youthful porcelain skin had dark circles under the eyes. His face gaunt from grim depression, he did not want to see his only true friend leave. Sara in contrast was not grim and grey as they were. It was an oddity that the roles were reversed, but on this particular morning, Sara radiated her beauty with violet glows. She wore a purple dress with scarlets and navy floral wavy prints. The natural blush seemed deeper on her pale skin, and her dark red-brown eyes glinted with excitement. The rusty joy didn't flicker and her matching blush did not falter either. Her russet lips smiled warmly in the most sanguine way. She looked like the prettiest wild violet in a field of snowy dandelion fluff. Alan's bronze hair seemed faded just as Edith's golden hair and dress seemed like a faded sun. Nathaniel's emerald vest did not shine its brilliant jewel tone, but a matte color of muddy green. The staff seemed bleak in their monotone expressions and garments, just as the hall had a lifeless color to it. Everything already seemed dusty, dead, and cold.

In the Mansion doorway the family exchanged their farewells of best wishes, love, Godspeeds, and warnings of the men on the ship.

"Sara, remember if they hurt you, take a trophy so they never forget who they hurt-even if it's their sanity." Nathaniel half-joked. Sara squeezed her sprouting brother, "Only for you will I crush them utterly." They chuckled at their sadistic humor. Alan smiled warmly to her, "You are my darling daughter, and now be safe from the strange folks abroad. I do not want you to wander anywhere dangerous. You can always call on me if you need, no matter what for." He sternly looked into her eyes, they were full of worry and hers were clear of doubt, "Papa, I will be fine."

Turning towards her mother, Edith came forward, "Sara…I regret sending you away already." She started sobbing, "Just promise me, and while you're there…don't find your father. The past needs to stay dead." Sara nodded, promising that she wouldn't and gave her mother a hug. When Edith was near her ears, she whispered to Sara so the others would not hear, "If you listen to some of what the phantoms say, it may save your life or kill you. Remember the good go to heaven so any ghost remaining is not your friend; they play with you for their gain. Do not give them pleasure with your fears and pains. Don't give in, be strong." Sara looked at her mother pulling away, nodding subtly.

The ride from the estate the docks weren't too far, so the loading and reloading were the long parts. The ship was the U.S.S. Janus, it was a humble ship that got the job done, whatever that may be. Sara looked at the navy ocean in its fresh crisp smells. The spray of waves gently splashed her cheeks, and the bloody orange sun hid behind fluffy light grey clouds. The mist seeped like tendrils over the overcast water and sky. It was a truly beautiful sight; the seabirds gleamed with their oily and waxy feathers, the jellyfish glowed with their bioluminescence and the barnacles on the ship hull had the iridescent pearlization. Sara was taken by the harbor alone, even though the bay would be insignificant in comparison to the large expanse yet to come. Wishing to see whales and thunder in the distant horizon, Sara longed for the journey to start, even though the ship had not launched yet.

When the horn blew, the ship carried away Sara to a new world outside of the one she knew very well. For the first time in her life she felt safe from dark spirits, for she felt that if a storm were to come to the ship she would find the silver lining. Like Noah's rainbow, or the Saviour walking to the fisherman, Sara felt that her perilous adventures had ended and she found peace in this seclusion to her new home.

Though in the end all is well, if it is not then it is not the end; Sara's dangerous journey had yet begun. Her peace would come far later and in a way she might not have expected.


End file.
